


Hush

by thursdayknight



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Sickfic, love realizations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:53:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22790530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thursdayknight/pseuds/thursdayknight
Summary: Geralt is beginning to feel like a great melting iceberg.He's tried, so very, very hard to act like all he feels for Jaskier is disgust and disdain.It isn't working anymore.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 16
Kudos: 333





	Hush

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AliceStarlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceStarlight/gifts).



> For Amy. I know you're sick with the flu right now and I hope you get better soon! Also, Happy Birthday!

"Oh, please just shut up," Geralt grumbles as he rolls over to look at Jaskier moaning and clutching his hand at the wrist, forehead damp with sweat and face all pinched and tight. 

It's been three days. Three days of Jaskier having this wretched fever. Three days of Jaskier muttering in his sleep. Three days of sweat sticky sheets. Three days they've been stuck in this dinky, dingy, hole-in-the-wall little Inn in this nowhere town, unable to leave because Jaskier's fever refuses to break and Jaskier's body refuses to keep anything down that isn't tiny mouthfuls of clear broth and tiny bites of plain bread. 

"Mmm," Jaskier moans. "Sorry, Mom, 'll try to… keep it down." He smiles deliriously and whacks Geralt with the hand he'd only seconds ago been cradling gently. His eyes are still closed and he seems trapped in the place between fully asleep and fully awake.

Geralt groans and rolls back over to his side of the bed to try to get some sleep. There are exactly three-point-two seconds of calm before Jaskier starts  _ whining _ pitifully and goddamn fucking  _ shaking  _ so hard the bed starts to move underneath them.

"Ugh," Geralt grits out. "Fine." Carefully he rolls back over and scoops Jaskier into his arms and it makes Jaskier make this disgustingly pleased little hum and then he freaking  _ nestles _ into Geralt's chest like this is, by far, the comfiest he's ever been in his entire life. Like there's nowhere else he'd rather be in the whole world right now than lying in this dim and dreary room, lying in these nasty, sweat-soaked and who-even-knows-what-else soaked sheets, wrapped up and held by a Witcher. By this  _ particular _ Witcher. Like this is making him  _ happy. _

It's wearing at Geralt's resolve.

Jaskier continues with this string of happy, pleased, content little noises, even as he starts to drool a little on Geralt's shirt and Geralt is beginning to feel like a great melting iceberg. Has been since the day they met. 

"So nice," Jaskier mumbles breathily into Geralt's chest. He rubs his head up and down like a goddamn cat. "So  _ warm." _ He might as well be fucking purring. 

This should be disgusting.

Geralt wants for it to be disgusting.

He's tried, so very, very hard to act like it's disgusting, to be disdainful, to be  _ bothered _ by Jaskier. He's tried.  _ For years. _

But this is what's doing it, this, Jaskier all sweaty and snotty and smelling absolutely horrid and… 

And…

And…

...Clinging to him like he's the best thing in the whole, entire universe, like Jaskier has got him now and is never, ever going to let him go, not ever, ever again. 

And there's something in that, in Jaskier's touch, in his complete and total willingness to be this vulnerable, in the way every time Geralt tried to push him away he only just kept coming back, in that even if he did leave, it wasn't for long - there's something in that and it… it makes the last remaining shards of ice in Geralt's heart melt and fall away. It makes Geralt bend down and kiss the top of Jaskier's sleep mussed head. It makes something warm and wholly unfamiliar spread throughout Geralt's body and makes him shiver, makes goosebumps pop up all over. 

"Mmm," Jaskier mumbles, sounding distressingly sad now, "if I'm making you cold…" He goes to pull away and that tingling, sparkling, shiver-inducing sensation from only seconds ago plunges into Geralt's gut to become sheer panic. Geralt takes a breath and lets it out slow before grabbing for Jaskier again, wrapping his arms around his bard tighter this time, making sure that this time, he can't get away. 

"I'm fine," Geralt whispers as he pulls Jaskier up so Jaskier's head is directly under his chin and their chests are pressed together. "Go back to sleep." Gently, and awkwardly at first, Geralt starts rubbing at Jaskier's back until

Jaskier nods and sighs, relaxing into the touch.

After a minute, his breathing evens out, signifying he's finally back to sleep.

Geralt grunts and keeps rubbing slow circles into his back, glad to be able to touch him and for once to not have to worry about why he wants to.

They can talk when Jaskier wakes up.


End file.
